Part Eleven: Night Visits



Sirius sat on his haunches across the street from number four, Privet Drive, and watched with amusement as reporters and police scurried to and fro in the front of the house. He observed with glee that Aunt Petunia's precious flower beds had been desecrated by trampling feet and that her tidy yard was cluttered with food wrappers and discarded drink cups. He also noted, in the hour or so he'd been hiding among the neighbour's bushes, that the activity was slowly tapering off.



Just after midnight, the last of the media left as did the remaining law enforcement officials, leaving only two policemen at watch in a patrol car parked at the curb. Sirius observed them for a few moments as they sat talking and smoking, seemingly not too concerned with anything beyond how their football teams were faring this season. When it seemed certain that no one else was coming or going, he ambled out of the bushes and crossed the street into the yard next to the Dursley's. As he'd thought, the officers paid him no mind and he quickly moved into the back yard of number four, his dog's ears attuned to everything around him. At the back of the Dursley home, Sirius stopped and listened.



"They seem to think that he won't come back here," Vernon said perturbedly from inside, his loud voice carrying beyond the closed windows.



"They don't know anything about him, do they?" Petunia's strident tone made Sirius wish his canine hearing wasn't so sensitive.



"Course not!" exclaimed Vernon angrily. "No one will ever find out about that one if I can help it. After all we've done for him he goes with that criminal godfather of his without so much as a 'by your leave'. He'd better not show his face around here again. I'll show him what for if he does, that's for certain. Ungrateful little monster. I hope that murdering element he's hooked up with kills him in short order!" As he spoke, Vernon's voice grew louder and louder until he was screaming in rage. "AND I SWEAR IF I EVER SEE THAT MISERABLE WRETCH AROUND HERE AGAIN, I MAY JUST KILL HIM MYSELF!" Sirius could hear Petunia making comforting clucking sounds, much like the old hen she was. He wished they would just shut up and go to bed so he could retrieve Harry's belongings and go home. He smiled inwardly at that. Home. It had been a long time since he'd had a home. And he knew that Hogwarts was the only thing close to a home Harry had ever known. This place never was one, that was certain. Harry'd only existed here until he'd gone to school.



After what seemed like hours, the family went upstairs. Sirius gave it another hour after the last lights had gone out before he returned to his natural form. He apparated into the room that had been Harry's. Yellow police tape was draped around the room and through the gaping hole into the next. He noticed that, despite the debris, Dudley was sound asleep in his own bed, his fat arms wrapped around a tattered old stuffed animal. Sirius wanted to laugh at that. Big, brave Dudley, bully extraordinaire, sleeping with a teddy bear.



A soft hooting from the windowsill returned him to his mission. "Hello, Hedwig," he greeted softly. He was glad the Dursley's hadn't harmed her. They had, however, locked her in her cage and she was more than eager to be let out. "Hang, on old girl, I'm coming." A quick flick of his wand freed the owl and another flick opened the window which had been rather extensively nailed shut. "Do you know where Harry is?" he asked quietly. Hedwig hooted affirmatively and flew out the window. Sirius then went about gathering up Harry's meager belongings and the textbooks from under the floorboards. He piled them on the bed along with Hedwig's cage, and with a wave of his wand, apparated them into the large airy room that comprised Glynnis' third floor. That done, he moved stealthily down the stairs and opened the closet where Harry's other school things were stored. Again, it took only a flick of his wand to remove the trunk and broomstick. Sirius stood in the now empty closet and looked around at the place his godson had spent the first eleven years of his life. His face hardened with a fury he barely controlled at the thought of Harry being confined to this horrid place. With grim determination he stalked silently back up the stairs, a feral smile on his lips.



*******************



Glynnis watched with amazement as Sirius transformed himself into the huge black dog that was his alter ego. "This side of you could come in very handy," she remarked with mock gravity "I've always wanted a dog. However, I can't help but wonder if you can be trained. Tell me, do you fetch?" Sirius growled at her and pounced, sending her sprawling. She righted herself and threw her arms around him, laughing. He licked her face and she wiped it with a groan. "Ugh! I think that'll do, Rover." She smiled at him again and then sighed and lay her cheek against his giant head. "Be careful, Sirius. It could be dangerous for you. Promise me?" A quiet bark sufficed for an answer and she stood, watching as he bounded off into the park.



Glynnis gaze lingered on the night shrouded trees for a long time after his black coat made him invisible to her eyes. She was truly worried about his welfare and could only pray that he would be safely returned to her and Harry before long. The cold damp air on her arms brought Glynnis out of her preoccupation with Sirius' well being and, with a shiver, she retreated into the house. She locked the kitchen door against the night, knowing that Sirius needed no key, and padded softly down the hallway to where Harry lay sleeping.



She sat on the bed beside him, and held his hand. Reflecting on the events of the past few hours, on her almost instant kinship with Harry and Sirius, she wondered what force had brought her and these two remarkable men together. Was it karma? Some sort of cosmic recompense for their losses? Or an inevitable turn of fate that was predestined long before any of them were even born? Glynnis could only wonder and continually thanked in her heart whoever had been responsible.



***************************



Sirius apparated, as planned, into the kitchen. Glynnis had left a small light burning for him and he left it on as he walked quietly out into the hallway. The house was very quiet, and he wondered if she'd gone to bed. It was, after all, very late and she must be as tired as he was. "I'll check in on Harry and then I'm off to bed as well," he thought. Before he left Glynnis had shown him the small room adjoining Harry's where he could sleep but still be within calling distance. He knew without a doubt it had once been the nursery, but he didn't mention it, only thanked her, grateful for a bed to look forward to. Sirius walked into the room and stopped, his heart swelling within his chest. Glynnis lay on her side next to Harry, one hand holding his, the other beneath her cheek. He stood gazing at the perfect scene for few moments, then, with a tender smile, covered her up with a soft quilt. He lightly kissed her upturned cheek and smoothed Harry's hair from his brow, then retreated to his own bed. The sweet smell and feel of clean, crisp sheets enfolded him and, for the first time since he could remember, Sirius dropped into a deep, dreamless sleep.





Part Twelve: The Morning After



Harry struggled out of deep blackness. He felt weighted down and heavy yet something prickled at the back of his mind, telling him that he needed to surface, needed to fight the drowning pull of sleep. As he pushed himself up from the ooze, his senses seemed to turn on, one by one. First, he heard someone singing quietly near him. "Mom?" he asked silently. The singing stopped and he heard an answer. "It's time to wake up Harry. We're waiting for you." In his mind's eye he saw his mother and father. They were smiling and waving. Waving goodbye. "Wait!" Harry called. "Where are you going?" But his parents' faces were fading and in their places he saw two new faces. Familiar faces.



"Harry, wake up." The voice was Glynnis' and this time it wasn't in his head.



Next Harry became aware of something warm and wet sliding along his face. A soft hand cupped his cheek and he felt fingers brushing away the wetness. "It's alright, Harry. It's over. You're going to be fine." Harry struggled to open his eyes. His eyelids fluttered with the effort and then abruptly opened. He blinked and remembered. His hand flew to his shoulder and he sat up in panic.



"It's alright, Harry, it's gone! The dagger is gone."



Harry lay back down and took several deep breaths. When he had managed to calm his racing heart, he opened his eyes. Soft, diffused sunlight filtered into the room. Above him, Glynnis' face took hazy shape. "Hello there," she said cheerfully. Harry squinted up at her, trying to bring her into focus. "Hold on," she said and turned away. A second later Harry's glasses were placed over his eyes and he looked up. Glynnis beamed at him happily. "How are you feeling?"



Harry thought about that for a moment. Aside from being sore all over, he felt fine. Tired, but much better. He told her as much. She smiled. "I'm glad to hear it," she said as she smoothed back the hair that tumbled over his forehead. "Now, can I get you anything? Something to eat, maybe?" Harry realized that part of what had awakened him was his painfully empty stomach.



"I am hungry," he said.



"Well, then, something to eat it is. Do you have any preferences or will homemade soup do?"



"Soup would be great!" replied Harry.



"Soup it is," Glynnis declared and she rose to leave. "Sirius will be in momentarily, to help you with, uh, anything else you may need to take care of." Harry wondered about that for a moment then it occurred to him what she meant. He realized that he had to use the bathroom rather urgently just as Sirius voice drifted in from the hall. "I'll see to it, Glynnie," he heard him say and then Sirius entered the room. Harry forgot all about having to use the bathroom and stared at the man before him. "Sirius?" he asked hesitantly. "Is that you?"



Sirius laughed. "Quite a change, isn't it? It's amazing what a hot bath and good night's sleep can do for a man. What do you think? Will anyone recognize me?"



Harry shook his head, his mouth hanging open. "I didn't even recognize you. If I hadn't seen the picture of you from my parents' wedding, I'd have never known who it was. You look so different!"



"I feel like a new man. Um, Harry, do you need to . . . "



"Yes," Harry declared, causing Sirius to smile.



"I thought as much. Come on, then. Let me help you up."



Between them they managed to get Harry into the bathroom to see to his needs. By the time they returned to the bedroom, Harry was sweaty with exertion and exhausted. He sat back on the bed, panting, while Sirius tucked the blankets back in around him, a concerned look on his face. "Are you sure you're feeling alright, Harry?"



Harry shook his head. "I'm feeling better, honestly. It's just that I seem so weak. I don't understand it."



"What isn't there to understand?" boomed Attivus Attlewart from the doorway, causing Sirius to jump.



"Don't DO that, Attivus! You've scared me half to death. If I'd had my wand, you'd be a lizard by now."



"Sirius! That IS you! How delightful you look. Much more like your old self, except for the hair of course. Never knew you to grow it any longer than your shoulders. I like it though. Harry, my boy how are you feeling? No, don't tell me. Better but tired. It's to be expected, my boy, entirely expected. You'll feel a bit like a wrung out dish rag for a few days, then back to your old self after that I dare say." Harry remembered very little of the doctor's visit the previous day and watched in amazement as he carried on this one sided conversation while examining his patient at the same time. Attivus Attlewart had a remarkable ability to answer his own questions very accurately and Harry wondered if the man ever let his patients speak for themselves. Harry winced when the doctor gently prodded his shoulder. "Does that hurt?" Attivus asked.



"A little, when you press on it," Harry lied. It hurt dreadfully, in fact, despite the fact that it had healed up nicely overnight.



"Is it painful when you move or raise your arm?"



Harry gingerly rotated his shoulder and lifted his arm as directed. "It hurts some," he managed through clenched teeth.



The doctor peered at him through his triangular glasses with a calculating frown. "Hmmmm. I see. Well, seeing as how it does hurt a little," he noted dryly, one eyebrow raised, "I'll put it in a sling for a couple of days to let it rest." He pointed his wand at Harry and mumbled an incantation. Immediately, Harry's right arm was comfortably settled in a black sling.



"Perhaps soup wasn't the best idea," Glynnis remarked from the doorway, a loaded tray in her hands.



"Oh, don't worry, Miss Babcock," Attivus reassured her. "Harry can remove his arm for short periods of time. I would prefer he keep it on as much as possible, though, to allow that shoulder to rest."



"I thought it was healed already," Glynnis commented as she brought Harry the tray and settled it over his lap. She smiled as she watched him ease his arm out of the sling and attack the food.



"Oh, it's healed, alright," Attivus explained. "However, as with any deep wound, it will take several days for the tenderness in his shoulder to recede. Young Potter here should be good as new in no time, I wager. Anyway, I'm off. I'll check back in a couple of days. If you need before then, Sirius knows how to reach me. Oh, Sirius, that reminds me. Word on the street is that the Ministry is looking for you again in earnest. Not too happy with the brouhaha yesterday involving that Muggle boy. And I'm afraid your little escapade last night has only added fuel to the fire. I would contact Albus Dumbledore if I were you. At least let him know what went on. That's it then. Goodbye Harry, Miss Babcock, Sirius. I'll see you soon."



"Goodbye, Attivus. And thank you," Sirius called after the retreating physician. A prickling of the hairs on the back of his neck informed him he was being stared at. He turned around and found two sets of questioning eyes looking at him with undisguised curiosity. "What happened last night?" Harry asked. Sirius shrugged innocently. "I retrieved your belongings from the Dursley's, is all." Glynnis stood tapping her foot, her arms crossed over her chest. "Mm-hmm." She was not convinced. "Then what's all this about an escapade?"



A mischievous grin fraught with naughty implications lit Sirius' face. "Well," he began, "if you must know . . . "



*******************



Vernon Dursley was dreaming. His little family was having a lovely holiday by the seashore. Harry Potter had never intruded in their lives and everything was going swimmingly. He was floating happily in the balmy waves of the Mediterranean, weightless and carefree. The bright sun lit his eyelids and the warmth of summer was all around him. Before long, however, this lovely dream was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of the alarm clock at his bedside and Vernon reached over to turn it off. Strange. No matter how far he stretched his arm, he couldn't reach the table on which his clock resided. He grumbled and pried his gummy eyes open. It was with somewhat of a shock that Vernon realized the lighter than air feeling of his dream was, in fact, a grim reality. For when he opened his eyes, Vernon discovered that he was floating four feet above his mattress. He gave a startled shriek and began to flail about. Suddenly, he plummeted down and landed with a smack on top of his sleeping wife.



"AAAAGGGHHHH!" Petunia screamed. "GET OFF ME! HELP! POLICE! MURDER!" She threw all of her substantial strength into pummeling the heavy man who was laying on top of her.



"Pet . . . " Vernon tried to speak but his wife only continued to beat on him. He cursed inwardly at the bad habit she'd developed of sleeping with heavy padded night shades on. "Petunia," he tried again, his voice garroted by her elbow on his throat. "Take off those shades!"



"AHG! VERNON! HELP!" Petunia screamed, her mouth painfully close to her husband's ear. "You beast! What have you done to my husband?!" If Vernon was pleased by her effort to repay any harm she'd believed done to him, he was unable to express it. Her piercing voice made his ears ring and it was all he could do to fend off the blows that rained down upon his upper body. He tried again. "Petun . . . " But whatever he was going to say was abruptly removed from his mouth in a great, painful whoosh of air as Petunia's bony knee connected with his groin. A strangled croak issued forth from his throat and he rolled sideway off of Petunia and onto the floor. At that instant, the two policemen who'd come to replace the night shift, barged into the bedroom.



"Hands up!"



"Don't move!"



Vernon hadn't considered moving. It was all he could do to drag breath into his lungs. "Oh, thank God!" he heard Petunia cry. "He was here! He tried to kill me! Did you catch him? Where's Vernon? Oh, Vernon! What did he do to you?!" In a flash, Petunia was beside her husband's crumpled form. "Oh, my darling! Where are you hurt? Why are you clutching your . . . oh, dear! How terrible! Oh, Vernon!" She pulled at his pajamas, trying to ease him onto her lap so she could comfort him. A loud cry from Dudley, however, grabbed her attention, and she bolted to her feet, dropping Vernon's head in the process. It bounced off the hardwood floor with a loud 'thunk'. "Duddy-kins?" He heard her call. "Are you alright?" He felt her pounding footsteps echo through his head as she ran from the room and into the hall. Vernon could hear her asking after their son's welfare and then the door to his room opening. There was a second of silence and then an ear-piercing scream.